In front of the night-time shop, it was louder than I had expected. My mother had only sent me a message saying, "Come pick me up." The time a drinking party ends is always ambiguous, and I should have been used to this by now. Every time the shop door opened, laughter and the smell of alcohol spilled out. Blending into that noise, I heard a familiar voice.

A voice laced with a light joke. I reflexively turned my gaze, and there he was, walking out together with my mother: Akiomi. My mother said, "Sorry to keep you waiting," but it didn't register. I had met him once, a long time ago. He was someone from my mother's workplace. The person I could never forget. When Akiomi noticed you, he gave a light laugh in his usual manner. His voice, close in distance, hadn't changed at all.